


Worth it All

by dadezra



Category: Cancer Crew, Filthy Frank - Fandom, Joji - Fandom, Joji miller - Fandom, george "joji" miller - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 10:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13973463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dadezra/pseuds/dadezra





	Worth it All

The air feels lighter, warmer now that the last snow has finally melted. The days are getting longer, little by little, and even though it’s only March, the fingertips of spring can be seen in the budding greens of the sidewalk trees below your window.  
Normally midnight would be soft breathing and tangled limbs, but Joji is out with his friends tonight. Your evening lays in empty bottles strewn on the floor and a seemingly perpetual absence of pants. But who cares? You’re alone and the apartment is all yours tonight.  
Padding along the hardwood, the soles of your wool socks slide awkwardly around the floor. Soon it will be warm enough to open the windows and you won’t have to worry about the heavy, scratchy fabrics anymore. You can’t remember exactly it’d gotten so late, but dancing around with your last glass of wine in hand, you don’t care. You just wish he was home with you. Humming with glazed eyes, you tip the glass to your lips.   
“Damn.” It’s empty.  
You lick your lips, placing a hand on your hip. The record comes to an end and you feel silly as you breath out, feigning a crowd’s applause, and a curtsy for added emphasis. This brings you back to the last adoring crowd you’d encountered.  
The last notes of “Demons” had disappeared into the air, only to be swallowed up by masses of shrill screams. Joji bounced towards you off stage; exhausted, breathless, and happy. Obviously pleased by the energy, and with every right in the world to be.The flush of his cheeks and the smile on his face were undeniable.  
It was hard not to be happy for him, to not be so proud of his hard work finally paying off. In fact it made your heart swell and tears well up in your eyes when you watched the crowd sing the lyrics with him.  
Nights like this though, when you’d find yourself tipsy off cheap wine, dancing alone to whatever was left in the record player in your shared apartment, your anxieties find a way to creep in. He’s growing and you’re stuck standing still- in your job, your life. Is it possible to remain the person he wants and needs? It’s a frightening thought when he’s everything you could’ve dreamed of.   
The sounds of the New York streets surround you as you slide the glass doors to the balcony open and step out into the cool night. The goose feather down comforter is wrapped around you as you settle into the small patio sofa.  
A breeze rolls past and you realize you’re still only wearing one of your boyfriend’s large sweaters and your underclothes. Settling for the “too-late-now” argument, you snuggle down deeper into the blanket and let the late night end-of-winter breeze carry you into a well deserved rest.  
You aren’t sure how long it’s been since you fell asleep when the clinking of bottles and the squeaky shuffles of plastic soles against the hardwood wake you up. The sun is peeking over the buildings, leaking pink and yellow into the sky like ink threading through water. You decide it must have been a few hours since you dozed off.  
“Hello?” Joji’s voice calls out into the empty apartment. He shuffles around when you give no response. You can tell he’s worried by the way he moves quickly from room to room. Granted there’s only a kitchen, a couch, and a bedroom, but his footsteps grow urgent as he realizes you’re nowhere to be found.  
Outside, you’ve barely moved since waking up. You have a slight headache, but the cool air is heaven for the throbbing of your temples. You chew your bottom lip, debating whether or not it’s worth it to risk the cold and go back inside or cuddle deeper into your cloud. A sanctuary floating untouched above the Brooklyn streets. Truth be told you’re still a little frustrated with Joji and yourself. Maybe without reason, maybe rightfully so, but enough to turn over into the fetal position and let him discover you on his own.  
Unfortunately for you, the glass door soon slides open.  
“Hey,” he breathes, relief in his voice, “What are you doing out here?”  
You peek up from beneath your lashes to find him leaning out of the door. His tousled black hair flying slightly in the breeze, briefly flashing his forehead before falling sloppily back over his eyes.   
“Nothing,” you shrug, unsure of where to begin.  
“I was worried. I saw the empty wine bottle on the floor and the door unlocked,” he gestured inside, “I thought something happened to you.”  
You give him a small grin and shake your head.  
“Do you want to come inside?” He leans further out the door, lending you his hand to come inside, “You must be so cold.”  
When you shake your head once more, your grin begins to disappear and his mouth falls slightly.  
“Well, can I join you?”  
You think it over for a moment, but he smiles when your goosebumped arms spread, beckoning him to reintroduce heat into your body.  
His arms draw you close to him and you bury your face into chest. The cool morning breeze runs its fingers through your hair, but nothing can chill you wrapped in his embrace. He holds you, your naked legs wrapping loosely around his and arms wind around each other, clinging on like children.  
You mumble into his chest as he runs a hand softly up and down your back, his cheek presses against the top of your head.  
“What was that?” he whispers into your hair.  
You sigh, “I missed you.”  
His hands stop their movement for a moment, but then began again, softer than before. You can feel his chest rise and fall with his slow intake of breath. His touch is gentle and kind, just like him. You start to feel badly for making him feel badly, he’s trying his hardest, isn’t he? It comes with the territory. You were his and he was yours… yet also the world’s. You know it’s selfish, but sharing can be hard.  
“I’m sorry,” he breathes. You can see the condensation form out of his words, spiraling then dissipating.  
You stay silent.   
“You know,” he starts, whispering now. You struggle to hear him against the rising life of the New York streets below. “I love you so much.”   
And with that, all of your doubts melt away as you press yourself closer to his warm body. This is a moment he could never share with the rest of the world, something special between just the two of you. Something that made the distance and the late nights worth it all. You were going to be just fine.  
“I love you too.”


End file.
